


All about that Bass

by plsnskanks (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/plsnskanks
Summary: In which Tord touches things he shouldn't so Tom does the same in turn





	All about that Bass

Tom was the kind of guy who was pretty harmless drunk. Sure he was an ass, but he was a harmless ass. It was getting him angry while he was sober that Tord had to watch for.

Apparently he wasn’t nearly vigilant enough because he was now pinned against the wall by a red faced Tom holding a pretty mangled looking bass.

“Ah, old friend, I understand you might be mad-,” Tord began.

Tom huddled in closer, getting so near to Tord that he could practically feel the heat of Tom’s rage radiating off Tom’s body. 

“I was mad five minutes ago when I told you to leave Susan alone, now, I’m pissed,” Tom growled. 

Not much really shook Tord after a brief stint in the army. You hang out with people who grow up hard and roll into the army looking to sort out all their problems, only to find it exacerbates them. In short, he’s see a lot of nuts, and if there’s one thing Tord knows how to spot, it’s the “I’m gonna give you nine different levels of hell” kind of look, that Tom is currently drilling him with now.

“Aha, I can fix this I swear,” Tord began nervously. He hated to say it, but Tom was intimidating. He had a few inches on him, he was lean and not all that muscular, but he had this persona about him that did not bode well.

Tom seized Tord by the arm and yanked him closer, gripping him tightly. And that’s when things completely started to go south for Tord. Things also started to happen south for Tord, primarily, he could feel a certain something start to perk up.

You know it’s pretty fantastic when every single part of your body decides to be stupid in unison. Tord immediately tries to hunker down to avoid showing Tom his raging stiffy, which of course, only highlights it to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tom deadpans. His face is pinching up in all these ways that somehow make him seem even more attractive, and oh my fucking god, this isn’t hentai, Tom is probably not going to spontaneously fuck him. He’s going to murder him, bury him in a shallow grave, and probably build an outhouse over it so Tord can forever stew in filth like the enormous piece of garbage he is.

Thinking about human feces and still maintaining an erection, what a high caliber person he is. Tord’s fecal daydreams are derailed as Tom yanks him along.  
“Where are we going?” Tord asks as he nearly trips over his own feet and faceplants into the floor.

“You’re going to suck my dick until I feel less like committing homicide in the first degree.”

On second thought, this was going exactly like the hentais. Albeit with a lot less tentacle rape and a little more spite than was common. Tord wasn’t complaining. Tord was probably going to get laid. Get laid for breaking Tom’s guitar.

Maybe Tom needed to research the definition of “punishment” in a dictionary some time.

Tom brings him to his room and pushes the door open hard enough so that it bangs against the wall and bounces back. It knocks into Tord as Tom pull’s him through the door.

“Shut that,” Tom commanded. Tord rolled his eyes and kicked the door shut.

Tom unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. He gives Tord a long, pissed off stare for a minute until Tord gets the idea that yes, he should move his feet before Tom moves them for him. And potentially throws him out the window by the look on his face.

Yeesh, all this over a stupid ratty instrument that’s been broken by almost everyone in the house at least once.

Tord shuffles over and kneels in front of Tom. He kind of just stares at his dick for a while, noting its size and the way it hangs.

“Do I need to teach you the abc’s of sucking dick or can we finish this today?” Tom says, exasperated.

Tord sneers at him but grasps his dick in his hand and gives the tip a tentative lick. Tom grunts in satisfaction at that, so Tord continues, giving tender little licks as Tom’s cock starts to harden in his hand. He gives it one final sloppy kiss and then puts the head into his mouth. 

That gets him a fully developed moan. Loud and long, and god Tom has a really nice voice when he isn’t slurring like an oaf. Tord forces himself farther down, ignoring how his throat tries to give little protesting seizes. He can feel his pants getting even tighter than before and it takes him a minute to realize he’s been trying to rut into Tom’s leg while he sucks him off.

Tom seizes a handful of his hair and yanks him off. 

“I was trying to calm down, this isn’t working, let’s do something else.”

Before Tord can really question anything he is getting pulled up by his hoodie again. Jesus, can Tom use the words “can you move here?” instead of throwing him around like a ragdoll? Not that Tord minds the rough treatment, he’s just genuinely curious if Tom has the mental capacity to make a nice request or if it will send him into anaphylactic shock or something.

Tom is pulling Tord’s pants off for him and Tord’s cock is grateful when he frees it from his underwear as well. 

“You done this sort of thing before?” Tom mumbles. Like he’s embarrassed to have to ask such a question.

“What sort of thing?” Tord asks, curious to see how Tom will respond.

“Y’know… butt stuff.”

Tord could honestly burst out laughing right there. He can’t quite stifle a few chuckles. Butt stuff. He’s the immature little creep. Okay, sure.

“Yes, Thomas I have had things up my ass before, as long as you use lube and don’t act like a monster, things should be fine,” Tord says between dying snorts of laughter.

Tom leans over him to rifle through his bedside drawer. He comes back with a bottle of lube. He slicks up both hands and Tord wonders what he is doing before he gets one hand wrapping around his cock and the other pushing a finger up his ass. Tom strokes him as he preps him and it feels good. Really good. And that makes Tord nervous for what he has planned.

Because Tom is angry. He can still sense that. So Tord sincerely doubts this act of generosity is actually that. He just hasn’t figured out how it is a form of cruelty yet either. Tom pushes in more fingers and Tord really likes the way Tom moves them. He’s got these long slender fingers that have callouses on them from playing so much. They’re quick, they’re nimble and they’re making him crazy with their deft movements.

He’s spreading and stretching and seemingly always avoiding that one spot, while the hand on his cock continues to work him up, higher and higher, tenser and tenser. Then the hand is out and the one on his cock stops moving, just holding his dick now.

Tord moans in the silence and the stillness and he absolutely hates himself for it.

“Oh, you like this?” Tom says, and his voice is light, teasing. He’s a bitch. He’s such a bitch. Tord knows this is part of his act. He won’t make him do anything, wreck him physically, take his revenge out by force. He’s all mind games and gas lighting until he gets his apology.

How was Tord the asshole again?

The hand on his dick moves, just a fraction, “Tord, do you like this?”

It does all the wrong things to him to hear Tom say his name like that. 

“Yeah, yeah I like this,” Tord allows himself, licking his lips.

“And are you sorry for breaking my bass?” Comes the sugar sweet question.

“Yes, I’m sorry for breaking your bass,” Tord huffs in exasperation. Tom can hear the unspoken “can we go already?” in his voice.

Fine. They can go. He’ll get a more sincere apology out of Tord later. At a much less pleasant time. He had his change to make this easy.

Tom pushes into Tord and watches the man under him as he takes him in. It’s pretty satisfying to watch himself be swallowed up by Tord, and to watch the conflicting expressions of pain and pleasure take their turns parading across his face.

Tom starts pushing in and it’s slow. Agonizingly so. He can see every muscle in Tord’s body tensing up as he prepares for Tom to speed up. But he doesn’t. He just takes his time enjoying the heat, the friction, the quiet noises out of Tord. Tom moves his hand to thumb a nipple. 

When Tord doesn’t really respond to his touches, he tries to roll it. Still nothing. Then he thinks about his mangled bass and he is giving his nipple a nasty little tweak, pinching it hard and pulling up. That gets him a naughty little moan and a loud gasp. Tom does something similar to Tord’s other nipple. Same reaction. Tord even bucks his hips a little.

Tom presses his blunt nails into Tord’s back and rakes them down, starting from his shoulders and ending above the meat of his butt. Tord squirms the entire way and Tom presses harder as he goes. He isn’t aiming to draw blood, he just wants to hear more of Tord’s noises. And boy can does Tord sing for him.

He’s getting louder too and Tom know’s eventually Matt or Edd are going to figure out something is up, if they haven’t already. Tom really could not care less right now. This is satisfying. This is helping him feel better about having his fucking prized possession mangled by the little terror in front of him.

“You like when I do this to you? When I punish you” Tom growls as he tweaks another nipple.

“Yeah,” Tord whispers out.

“Louder and more detail or you’re getting shit,” Tom snarls, getting in close. He grips Tord from underneath pulling him up off his cock and digging his nails into the soft round cheeks.

“I like it when you fuck me and make me behave.”

Tom brings him down to his base in a harsh thrust. Tord head tilts into his shoulder as he lets out a soft whimper. Shocks of pain and pleasure are traveling up his spine. Tom leans in and Tord thinks maybe he might kiss him and the thought makes his heart fluttery and his stomach nauseous and his head, well that hasn’t been thinking straight for over five minutes.

Then Tom bites him, hard, probably hard enough to draw blood. It’s right on the stretch of skin between where his shoulder ends and his neck begins. Tord cums across Tom’s stomach and that seems to set something else of entirely. Tom pulls him closer and he is moving up and down the side of Tord’s neck, placing softer bites and hickies thrusting up like hard.

Tord is over sensitive and his body wants him to stop. His dick especially wants him to stop, because Tom is stroking it, milking him of cum and then still going. But Tord, Tord himself? He wants Tom to keep going. To keep pushing him past these hard, restricting boundaries of his body.

It hurts, but it’s okay, because even though Tom probably hates him like nothing else, Tord trusts him. Trusts him to break him down bit by bit but not ditch and run. Because even though Tom hates him, even though Tord is loathe to admit it.

Tom is probably a better person than Tord will ever be.

And that’s why people like him need people like Tom. 

Tom is cumming inside him, hot and hard and god Tord feels like… he doesn’t know but it feels good. His shoulder’s and back sting from all the scratches. His nipples are fucking on fire and aching. But god does it feel good to have someone pay him a bit of attention.

He is ready to pack it in and fall asleep when he feels Tom still working at his cock.

“What the fuck, I just came, you just came?” Tord shouts, it comes out less of a statement and more of a confused question.

“Yeah and I don’t think either of us have quiet achieved what we wanted, especially me, so we are going again, unless you have a problem with that?” Tom says, looking Tord dead in the eye. Tord is silent, emitting no sound of protest. 

Tom runs a hand down his back, setting off a wave of stinging as he feels the little raised pink welts his nails made just minutes ago. It’s this gentle sort of cruelty and it makes Tord’s chest ache for a reason that he doesn’t really understand. Suddenly Tom is too close, to near to him, this can only end badly. It can only end in pain and suffering for Tord.

He’s going to fuck this up, he’s going to destroy what isn’t even there.

Tom brings his hands back down and around, running up to Tord’s chest. He rubs at his nipples, and these little sparks of pain follow a wire right to his groin. Tom moves one hand up to behind Tord’s head and pulls him in close, pressing their mouths together.

Every voice in his head is screaming to back out to stop before everything comes around full circle and it’s ten times harder to disentangle himself from this. This. This thing that has no name. This beast that can’t be tamed.

But Tord never listens, especially not to common sense. He lets Tom have his wicked way, kissing him for what feels like hours. Just letting him own that part of his body, make himself comfortable. That hand still playing with his nipple moves to play with his cock, trailing smoothly down his soft stomach. 

He tugs up in a rough stroke and that gets Tord breathing harshly into his mouth in an awkward sort of disruption. 

Tom keeps going though and he pulls and twists his hand in ways that feel sharply uncomfortable and painful. Still Tord feels his cock hardening. Tom places his teeth gently back on Tord’s collar bone, giving little nips and sucking hickies, and that gets him fully hard. 

“You want me to fuck you again?” Tom asked.

“Yeah,” Tord whispers, he doesn’t even think about it before it’s out his mouth.

“No, not like that. Beg. I want another apology about my bass too,” Tom says, and it’s gentle in tone but Tord can sense the steely hardness of the meaning behind the words.

“I’m sorry for breaking your bass, I’ll try not to do it again,” Tord starts, only to have Tom squeeze him harshly. God that one really hurts. Still sexy though. Fuck, what is wrong with him?

“Try again.”

“I won’t break you bass anymore, I won’t even be in the same room as it I swear, Tom please….” Tord hates how his voice cracks and tilts high pitched at the end. He couldn’t make his desperation more apparent if he tried.

Tom positions himself at Tord’s entrance and pushes just the head of his dick in, pulling it in and out in lax motions, seemingly always catching Tord’s rim in a way that makes him achy for more.

He is going to find a new reason to hate Tom every single day of the rest of his hopefully short life.

“Tom can you stop being such a douche and go?” Tord snaps, and he puts all the real heat he has left to give behind those words.

Tom laughs in his face.

“I said I wanted you to beg, not order me around. Try. Again,” Tom says the last two words patiently, like he is a teacher with saintly patience and Tord is an extra slow student. He gives a slightly deeper thrust before pulling out and teasing at Tord’s rim again.

Tord take a minute to suck in a deep breath. He’s tempted to just hold his breath until he passes out on Tom’s dick. Just to spite the fucker. Then again, Tom might just fuck him anyways.

“Please dick me hard oniisan,” Tord whines out in what is quite possibly the most grating tone he can physically manage.

“You know, you’re a real piece of shit,” Tom says, putting a hand to his face and taking a moment.

“Takes one to know one.”

“I was never contesting that, I just felt this was a good time to highlight that statement,” Tom snorts. He gives Tord a hard thrust and yep, his dick is still not up for round two, but it’s going anyways.

Tom just lets himself go, pounding Tord down into the sheets, savoring the noises he pulls out of the man below him almost as much as he savors the fact that he got Tord to shut the fuck up for once. He’s all talk absolutely no walk as he squirms underneath Tom, cock standing proud apart from a body littered with hickies and bruises.

“You’re going to sit down days from now and remember that who did this to you?” Tom says as he pushes in hard, using one hand to stroke Tord and the other to pin down his hip.

“You,” comes the immediate response.

“Who’s you?”

“Tom, ah god, Tom did this,” Tord moans out, and his composure is gone. Tom has never seen his face this flushed or sweaty. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his mouth is open and gasping like a fish. No matter what it seems like he doesn’t have enough air, like he’s struggling to fully grasp the situation, the sensation, all of it.

It’s a good feeling. And not because they aren’t friends. Tom isn’t that petty. Okay well he probably is, but still. It’s good to see Tord enjoy himself in such a wanton way and know that he was the one that brought him there. He could still beat the shit bloody for touching his things, but for now his previous anger is sated.  
Mostly.

He still gives a hard jab from time to time as he thinks about how much work it is going to be to get Susan playing just right again. It took months last time after Edd broke it doing fuck knows what. He gives an especially rough thrust at the memory of that incident, and looks down in surprise to see Tord once again cumming across his stomach.

“Wha- already? You just came a little while ago?” Tom says, and he doesn’t know if he is more annoyed at Tord cumming early or amused at the embarrassed flush making its way down his neck.

“What do you expect when you’re ramming it in like that?”

“For you to have some self-restraint?”

“Oh like you do?”

It just ends with them glaring at each other while Tom is still inside Tord and Tord is covered in his own cum. Tom thinks Tord’s lower lip might be wobbling just a fraction. He is the first one to break the silence with a chuckle that turns into an outright laugh. He pulls out of Tord.

“Fuck it, your ruined it,” he says as he sits back down on the bed next to Tord. “I’m not even hard anymore, I hope you’re happy.”  
Tord just gives him an exhausted sidelong glance and shuts his eyes, relaxing into the sheets. Only to get shoved off the bed onto the ground. Fuck that hurts. He glares up at a smug looking Tom.

“What the fuck?”

“Get out, I have to start fixing my bass that you broke, and I don’t want you in here snoring while I do it,” Tom says, picking up his smashed bass and laying it down on his desk.

“Are you serious?” Tord deadpans.

“Deathly,” Tom says, “Now get out.”

Tord gets up, trying his best not to limp on his way out. He’s going to go piss in Tom’s vodka or something. As if he could taste the difference. He looks over his shoulder and Tom throws him one last rancid little smirk before turning back to his guitar.

See if that stupid bass doesn’t end up in a landfill by the end of the week.

**Author's Note:**

> I like meghan trainor songs, sue me


End file.
